


Beauty and the Peach

by Furious_Winter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furious_Winter/pseuds/Furious_Winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Arya x Gendry week "Frenzy" prompt.</p><p>This is loosely based on the events at "The Peach," though in a modern setting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty and the Peach

Arya watched him as he stood over the man, breathing heavily, his face wet and his knuckles bloodied. Gendry had beaten him to a pulp for grabbing her, for kissing her, for the things he’d said to her. The parking lot of the bar was silent, save for the passing cars and the buzz of the flickering neon sign reading “The Peach.” Gendry’s eyes darted up to hers and she could see his fury, his fear, and something else and that she couldn’t quite place.

The past fifteen minutes were a blur. She hadn’t even been sure when he’d come back. They’d only gone there for a few drinks, to pass the time on an otherwise uneventful Saturday night, and she hadn’t meant to upset him.

But she had.

He’d reluctantly taken her to this particular bar, infamously known for its wild and rowdy patrons, and she wasn’t even entirely sure why she’d insisted. She only knew that she was frustrated with him and that he wouldn’t like the idea. 

And that, at least, had worked. She was tired of the way Gendry treated her, always being protective and polite, always reminding her how Jon would feel about one thing or another. It was like he thought of himself as her older brother, and that was far from how she felt about him.

That had been part of what led to his being upset. They’d been sitting at the bar drinking when the man had come up behind her and, drunkenly, asked her to dance. Before she could even say no, Gendry put his arm around her shoulder. “She’s my sister,” Gendry told the man, “and she doesn’t want to dance. Get lost.”

The man grumbled and walked away with a confused expression on his face and Arya turned to Gendry, livid. “Your _sister?_ Why would you tell him that?”

Gendry smirked at her, “What? You’re too bloody highborn to be kin to a bastard?”

She shook her head, “No, that’s not what I meant. Jon is-”

“I know what you meant.” He turned back to his drink and drained the rest of his beer. “Just finish your drink so we can go.”

She wanted to slap him. “If _you_ want to leave, then leave.” she spat. “I can call a cab.”

He didn’t look at her as he got up. “As m’lady commands.” And with that, he pushed through the crowded dance floor towards the door and out of her sight. 

She sighed in frustration and ordered a shot, not paying any mind when the vacant seat beside her became occupied again. “What happened to your brother?” the man asked. She could smell the liquor on his breath.

“I told him to leave.” she replied, suddenly annoyed at herself. 

“Dunno what’s wrong with him,” the man slurred his words as he spoke, “I wouldn’t bring my sister to a place like this.” She did her best to ignore him. “And you’re a pretty little thing. It’s stupid to think men wouldn’t be all over you.”

Arya felt the man’s hand under her chin as he pulled her head over to look him in the face. She jerked away, “Don’t touch me.”

The man laughed, “A girl like you doesn’t come to a place like this if she doesn’t want to be touched.” He put his hand on her leg and began to rub, slowly moving closer and closer to her crotch.

She knocked his hand away, “Are you deaf? I told you not to touch me.” Now, she felt almost frightened as the man stood up, towering over her. 

“You’ve got a pretty little mouth on you. I’ll show you how to use it.” The man leaned down and kissed her violently, putting one hand on her breast and the other between her legs. She pushed at him, trying to get him off her but he only leaned in further, trapping her between himself and the bar. Finally, he pulled back, licking his lips. “You taste so good. I bet your other mouth is even sweeter.”

The next thing she knew, the man’s torso was sprawled across the bar sending a stack of glasses to the floor with a raucous crash. Cheers erupted all around her. Gendry shook his hand, wincing, before grabbing the back of the man’s head and slamming it down onto the bar. On impact, the man made one of the most pathetic guttural sounds Arya had ever heard. 

Gendry grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged him, flailing in vain, through the sea of patrons and towards the exit. Arya sat in shock for only a few seconds before taking off after them, calling after Gendry. He pushed the door open with one hand and, with the other, violently threw the man onto the pavement. Immediately, he was on top of him, holding the man’s head down and hitting him repeatedly.

“Gendry!” Arya screamed at him. “Gendry, stop!”

But he didn’t listen. He hit the man half a dozen more times before spitting in his face and rising up, his chest heaving. The man coughed and groaned, bringing a hand up to his temple and attempting to sit up only to fall back to the ground. Gendry’s eyes met hers, with the fury and the fear and...

“Gendry?” she managed weakly.

In three quick steps he crossed to her and pulled her to him, cupping her face with hands and leaning down, kissing her. At first she felt she’d lost control of her body, but she easily reciprocated the kiss and pulled him tightly to her, one hand on his back and the other digging into his scalp.

This was what she’d wanted for so very long.

He picked her up, their tongues still entwining, and carried her to his car. They got in the back seat and hastily began tearing at their clothes, still kissing, still touching and feeling. Without hesitation, she straddled and took him inside her. It was painful at first, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t think of anything but what was happening here and now, with Gendry. She rode him relentlessly, gasping for air, scratching down his chest, clawing at his hair, biting his neck and his ear. 

Soon enough, it was over. She collapsed against him and felt his heart beating through his chest, listened to his ragged breathing and inhaled his scent. He brought his hand up to her face, brushing a stray hair from her eyes, and she stopped him. Taking his hand in hers, she gently caressed his red knuckles and softly kissed each one. 

She looked into his eyes, glazed over from passion. “Don’t ever call me your sister again.”

He kissed her and whispered into her ear, “As m’lady commands.”


End file.
